


When Sammy Comes Meowing Home Again ...

by rayhne



Series: The Other Lives of Sam Winchester [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, One Word Prompts, Season/Series 06, kitten!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayhne/pseuds/rayhne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is brought back from Hell by someone unknown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kitten

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, just a little name change that I just couldn't resist ...

“You said you wanted him back! I’m not sure why but …” Crowley wisely shut up at the look Bobby gave him.

“I meant back as himself! Not …” 

Both men looked into the kitchen and one of them sighed.

“Trust me. This wasn’t my idea! He was like that when I found him.” Crowley frowned at the scowl Bobby gave him. “Honest!”

Bobby’s scowled deepened. A part of him insisted that he couldn’t trust any demon but Crowley wasn’t just any demon. He was, he reflected, the only demon he was willing to trust, if only just a little.

“So why?” He gestured vaguely in Sam’s direction. Only he wasn’t there any longer (and), Bobby looked around frantically until he spotted him investigating a corner.

Crowley shrugged. “Someone got Lucifer out of Sammy and threw him back to Earth but for some reason …” They both looked back into the kitchen.

“Someone who? The Big Guy or Gabe?”

Crowley snickered. “Does seem Gabriel’s speed, doesn’t it?” He sobered at the look Bobby gave him. “Or it could be the, the Big Guy. Mysterious ways and all that.”

“Son of a bitch.” Bobby muttered.

“Hey, cheer up. You have to admit it does make life easier. I mean how much trouble can he be like this?”

Bobby thought that over. No hunting, no risking life and limb, no dragging home girlfriends or just friends of dubious quality. He shook his head. “You ain’t never had cats before, have you?”

Crowley blinked. “Well, now that you mention it, no.” He sounded uncertain.

They both turned to look at the small tortoiseshell kitten trying to out-stare a dust bunny bigger than he was and sighed in unison.

*****

Despite having spent his previous life as a human, Sammy quickly got the hang of the rules concerning being a kitten. As in ‘the kitten rules, everything exists to serve the kitten’. He was pretty good at it too.

A part of him was aware of having been human once. Occasionally that part would sit down to contemplate the change in his life; to try and work out what had happened but the rest of him was too easily distracted. Sometimes by shoelaces, especially by shoelaces attached to shoes or boots, preferably shoes or boots being worn by someone walking. He’d dash after them, ignoring the swearing occupant trying desperately not to step on him and do his best to untie the shoelace.

This action and many others earned him several interesting names, especially from the Demon who knew how to curse in more languages than Sam could currently count. It also earned him a stay in the time-out place, an unused old-fashioned claw-foot bathtub in a downstairs storage area. There was a cushion at one end and a number of toys tossed around. No matter how hard Sam tried to stay angry about being put into the time-out place, the kitten side of him would end up playing itself into exhaustion and falling asleep, purring in contentment.

At night, Sam would sleep in a large, well-cushioned tote in a corner of Bobby’s bedroom. Eventually he managed to climb out of it. It wasn’t as high as the tub and besides; Crowley had carelessly tossed his shirt so that a sleeve had fallen into the tote. The first night Sam did this; he got so caught up in exploring the room, it was several moments before he realized that Something Was Going On. He clawed his way up the comforter and onto the bed then crouched at the foot, trying to figure out what was happening.

Of course the human part of him knew exactly what was going on and Sam quietly freaked out when he realized that Bobby and Crowley were doing _things_ that he never thought … well, Bobby would ever do. Not to a _man_ much less to a _demon_. And Crowley was a _demon_ ; he was the _enemy_ , and you didn’t do things like that with an _enemy_. 

Well, okay. So he had but that was different. This was _Bobby_ and seeing him having sex was like seeing your parents do it and wasn’t that a thought to fry a kitten’s brain? He was just thinking maybe he should do something, like yowl and kick up a fuss when common sense kicked in.

Because even a kitten with barely two brain cells could see that Bobby was happy.

The hunter was smiling, hands holding the demon’s hips as he murmured soft words of encouragement. Not that Crowley needed any. He was straddling Bobby, moving urgently with soft moans and whispers. And Crowley looked happy too, his face flushed with pleasure, his hands touching and stroking the man’s chest and face. He was surprisingly gentle, considering what he was.

Sam blinked, trying to think but having a kitten-sized brain meant he wasn't capable of the complex thinking of a human. He did know one thing; he didn't want the two to catch him. Carefully he made his way down the comforter, pausing only at a strangled cry. Kitten curiosity overwhelmed the human 'ick!' factor and he looked back.

Crowley had bunches of sheets gripped tightly in his hands, his head fallen forward and eyes closed tightly as he grunted his way to completion. Bobby reached up to drag him down close enough to kiss. Crowley's lips parted and the hunter swallowed his cry of pleasure. They fell to the bed together; bodies moving erratically before finally going still, the only sound their harsh breathing.

Sam carefully made his way down, stifling the kitten impulse to explore more and made his way to the tote. He climbed back in, doing his best to drag as much of the shirt as he could after him. Curling up he listened to the soft murmur of voices. Bobby was laughing at the Demon, who was complaining because he had to keep quiet during their lovemaking.

Sam did his best to think like the human he once was. He had wondered why the demon was hanging around and had done his best to ignore him, except of course when those oh so tempting shoelaces walked by or ... and he blinked in sudden realization. Apron strings! Crowley had worn an apron more than once. In fact he did most of the cooking, something that hadn't registered before. But when had the hunter and the demon started to share a bed? And why? Well, he knew why but why with Crowley?

He started to watch Crowley and Bobby during the day as best he could. It was always Bobby who scooped Sam out of the tote-turned-bed and carried him downstairs. Crowley would be setting breakfast out on the table and the two would chat back and forth as Bobby fed Sam. During the day Bobby would often work on cars while Crowley did research and worked the stocks. The impression Sam got was that Crowley was amassing a tidy sum of money, enough for them to live comfortably without worries.

The research Crowley did was for inquiries submitted by researchers and hunters and while he compiled the information it was Bobby who returned the calls. Which actually made sense considering that hunters still-hunted demons and some may actually recognize the demon or at least wonder who was returning calls made to Bobby. Lunch and supper were cooked by Crowley; the latter served with wine. It was watching Crowley cook that Sam realized Bobby had removed the holy water filters from the faucets. 

Of course Sam was still a kitten and he did kitten things. Like climbing up pant legs. Crowley had some choice words about that, mostly centered on the fact that he only had so many suits and no tailor and couldn't afford the suits he preferred any longer. Bobby used this as an excuse to haul the demon into town, returning hours later with a new wardrobe for Crowley. Jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers.

Sam had gone totally still, eyes wide the first time he saw Crowley in these unfamiliar clothing. So did Bobby, though for different reasons. The clothes hadn't stayed on the demon very long and Sam found himself closed firmly out of the bedroom for the afternoon.

Crowley wasn't very quiet that afternoon. In fact, despite kitten curiosity, Sam finally fled downstairs to get away from the energetic sounds on the other side of the door. 

It was the little things that convinced Sam that what was between Crowley and Bobby was real. The murmured endearments, the gentle touches and caresses. The way Bobby would absently rest a hand on the Demon's shoulder as he read over his shoulder and the way Crowley would lean back against him. The smiles they gave only each other and the quick kisses. But what really stuck in Sam's mind was something that happened a few weeks after Crowley had brought him home.

He didn't know what happened; just that Crowley was gone for several days. When he came back to a very worried Bobby he was sodden, shaken, and staggering with exhaustion. Bobby had sworn violently and bundled the demon into the shower, stripping the wet clothes from him only to discover, much to his distress, that not all that soaked his clothes was water. The shower ran red with blood.

Bobby bound the Demon's wounds, ignoring Crowley's weak protests that he could heal them once they were clean and he was rested. The hunter helped him to bed the Demon was asleep before his head hit the pillow. Bobby had paced for hours, muttering to himself, anger and worry etched into his face. Finally he had undressed and crawled into bed next to Crowley, gently drawing the sleeping Demon into his arms and falling asleep.

For the first time the couple forgot to put Sam in his nighttime bed. Not that it did any good but then they didn't know he could climb out.

*****

Crowley woke first, his eyes snapping open. He didn't move, unsure of where he was then the familiar surroundings finally registered and he relaxed. He shoved memories of the last several days into that part of his mind where he locked up unpleasant memories and healed the wounds that had been inflicted on him. It had been rough but he had prevailed. He’d made it home. Home to his life, his lover, his ….

Kitten?

Crowley frowned, aware that Something Was Different. He shifted, the movement waking the man next to him. Before he could say anything, Bobby’s lips were firmly on his own then the hunter was backing off, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.

“Damn it, Crowley! What the hell did you think you were up to, going after that nest by yourself?”

“It wasn’t that big of a nest,” he protested weakly. “Well, it wasn’t when I first heard about it.” He bit his tongue, cursing himself. He hadn’t meant to say that.

Bobby’s look sharpened. “What do you mean by that?”

“That’s not important right now.” Crowley struggled against his grip, finally giving up with the realization that he was weaker than he thought. “Did you put Sam in his bed?”

“What?” Bobby blinked. “No, I don’t think I did.”

“Oh. So …” Crowley carefully raised the quilt and Sam scrambled out from it, meowing protests about being squished so early in the morning and didn’t you dumb big things know kittens need their sleep and where was his food, damn it!

They both stared at the indignant kitten as he sat on the pillow next to Bobby’s head and began to put his rumbled fur to rights.

“I think he knows,” Crowley said at last and Sam raised his head to glower at the demon.

Bobby huffed. “You think?” he growled before turning his attention to the kitten. “So you don’t have a problem?”

Sam looked at him, tongue still sticking out from the frenzied washing. After a moment he returned to his bathing.

“Guess not.” Bobby muttered.

That day the kitten bed was removed to a new room and a new set of rules established. One where a closed bedroom meant all good kittens should go entertain themselves for a while.

Of course, Sam wasn’t always a good kitten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know torties are female. Sam is one of those impossible make torties. :)


	2. Hellhound

“This is not a good idea,” Bobby growled.

“Don’t worry, luv. It’ll be fine,” Crowley said soothingly, hoping his own apprehension wasn’t showing.

Bobby rolled his eyes, more at Crowley’s endearment than at his words. He still wasn’t used to being called ‘luv’ by a man. Not that Crowley didn’t have a right to call him that considering they’ve been sharing a bed for months now and how had that happened again? Oh right. Bobby grinned at the memory. A grin that faded as he took in the scene before them.

“I just don’t want anything happening to him,” he grumbled.

It was Crowley’s turn to roll his eyes. “The worst thing that can happen to him would be accidentally being inhaled. Bruno’s a good boy and I’ve told him Sammy’s off limits.”

They both turned to look into the living room. Bobby couldn’t see the Hellhound though he could guess where it was by the indentions in the rug. Right now it appeared that Bruno was standing in the middle of the room. Sammy was on the back of the couch, back arched and fur fluffed up to make himself look bigger. Not that it helped at all. He was still small enough to pick up with one hand. Or for the Hellhound to inhale him.

“Now come on.” Crowley took Bobby’s hand with a familiar smirk. “Let’s go keep ourselves occupied while they work this out.”

The look the demon gave him left no doubt as to how Crowley thought they should occupy themselves. Bobby felt a stirring and he cast a hesitant look into the living room. On one hand it was a Hellhound; on the other it was Crowley’s Hellhound and he had no doubt the demon trained him well.

Crowley sighed and stepped close, reaching up to stroke the hunter’s neck in a manner that could drive him wild. Bobby hissed and grabbed the hand, practically dragging the other up the stairs.

*****

An hour later, freshly showered and pleasantly sated, Bobby followed his lover down the stairs. There was still enough of the old ‘I am not in way, shape, or form gay!’ way of thinking still in him to insist he was in no way enjoying the view … Crowley in tight jeans and a t-shirt was something to behold, at least for him. Made him want to grab the demon and drag him back up to bed.

Crowley glanced into the living room and stopped dead, his mouth dropping open. A moment later he was sputtering in disbelief.

Alarmed Bobby skipped the last two stairs, coming down with a harder-then-usual ‘thud!’. “What?” he barked, looking into the room. He half-expected carnage and wondered why they hadn’t heard it upstairs but all he could see was Sammy, curled up and fast asleep …

… about three and a half feet off the ground.

Bobby blinked and rubbed his eyes. That didn’t help. Sammy was still floating in the air. In fact he seemed to be rising and falling rhythmically. As if he were …

Bobby began to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” Crowley burst out. “I just wanted them to get used to each other! Not …” He waved helplessly.

“Become friends?” Bobby snorted. “Things change. Hell, I’m screwing a demon on a regular basis so why can’t a Hellhound and a kitten be friends?”

Something in Crowley’s stance changed subtly and Bobby sighed, reaching over to rest a gentle hand on his shoulder. He knew what the demon was thinking and quickly moved to sooth his doubts in his own way.

“Knock it off, Crowley,” he said gruffly. “You know me and how I talked. Blunt as hell. I’m not someone for one-night stands; never have been. You’re the only one I want in my bed.”

Crowley smiled slightly, his body relaxing. “Or on the counter or in front of the fireplace or …”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Or up against the car or the fucking wall or bent over the damn desk.” He dragged the demon around and kissed him thoroughly. When they finally separated Bobby was pleased to see Crowley looked mussed, his lips swollen from the force of the kiss.

“They seem comfortable with each other.” Crowley’s voice was strangled. “How about we go check out that bent over a desk thing?”

Bobby roared with laughter, shaking his head as he followed Crowley into his library. 

*****

Sammy stretched lazily, the Hellhound shifting under him as if to make sure he didn’t tumble off. If he’d still been human Sammy would have smiled. 

Life was so much easier when everyone understand the way a kitten’s household worked. With, of course, the kitten firmly in control.


	3. Clothes

And there it was. The enemy. 

Belly to the ground, Sam crept closer and closer, tail tip twitching in excitement. He paused, rear end wiggling in the pre-attack dance and then …

… he attacked!

The enemy flew in every direction as he hit. Squalling fiercely, the little tortie gleefully tossed the ones he grabbed as high as he could, snatching them on the way down and rolling over to claw frantically. This one was a goner so he dropped it and went after another. That one went under the dresser and he grabbed yet another …

“Damn it, Sammy!” Crowley scooped him up with one hand, glaring at the clean clothes scattered around the room. “I was only gone for a few minutes!”


End file.
